


Kindness

by justonelastdance



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Miscommunication, Past Abuse, Post-Rescue from Thangorodrim, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:09:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justonelastdance/pseuds/justonelastdance
Summary: After his rescue, Maitimo thinks he is being punished for the betrayal.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 18
Kudos: 99





	Kindness

They hurt him and he knows he deserves it. They peel away his bandages, put burning potions on his wounds, break his bones. He knows it's a punishment. He bears it. He has to. He doesn't beg because he doesn't deserve and won't be granted mercy. He doesn't say that he has already been hurt in Angband because it doesn't matter. It wasn't a punishment. The Moringotto had no right to judge him, to punish him. _This_ is his punishment. His punishment for foolishness, for weakness, for betrayal. He doesn't say that Findekáno has already taken a hand from him. What is one hand for hundreds of dead? What is his suffering before theirs?

He asks about his brothers once, fearing that they are being hurt too, ready to offer to take their punishment upon himself. He is told that they are safe on the other side of the lake and he's glad that it's only him they have chosen, only him that has to pay. His uncle is merciful, he knew Maitimo would rather be hurt ten times worse than allow his brothers to be hurt. He has been granted that mercy and he doesn't dare to hope for more.

Findekáno comes to him sometimes, looks at him with his big, sad eyes and tells him to endure. Findekáno is too kind. Maitimo knows his pain brings Findekáno no pleasure. Still, he's often there when Maitimo is being hurt because he too knows that this is just. He tells Maitimo so. He says that it's necessary, that it has to be done, that he has to hold on until it's over. Maitimo doesn't ask when it will be over. He's afraid of the answer.

Findekáno has his moments of weakness sometimes when he holds Maitimo's hand or strokes his face, or caresses his hair. Maitimo lives for those moments, however brief they are. Findekáno's touch is so kind, so gentle that Maitimo, unused to it, can never hold back tears. They burn his eyes, fall down his face, as he weeps like the pathetic excuse for an elf he is. 

Findekáno never touches him for long. He always pulls his hand back and Maitimo weeps harder for it, wants to beg Findekáno to keep touching him, wants to offer to take more pain just for one more touch. He never does because he knows he doesn't deserve it. The morsels Findekáno throws at him are already a kindness he shouldn't be shown, but Findekáno is too kind.

Once, the pain is too much. They are doing something with his shoulder, maybe trying to break it, he doesn't know because he's nauseous with pain, even after he empties the contents of his stomach into a bucket. Findekáno is there and he isn't touching him, but he's looking at him and he's kind, so Maitimo, being the worthless coward he is, tries to bargain, tries to find a way to lessen the pain.

"I didn't burn the ships," he rasps through a broken throat. "I didn't. I tried to stop him, but I couldn't. Please. Please, I didn't burn them."

"I know, Maitimo," Findekáno says gently.

Maitimo falls back on the pillows, burning from shame and humiliation. He knows. Of course, he knows. If he didn't know, Maitimo wouldn't have been allowed even the little kindnesses — the food that he can't keep down, the water that hurts his throat, Findekáno's touches, so rare and brief.

He tries to be better after that, he does. He tries to bear his just punishment with dignity, but he has so little left of it, he isn't even bothered when they strip him and poke and prod him. Again, he wonders when it will end, _if_ it will end. He thinks that he can bear it endlessly if only Findekáno touches him every time he's hurt. Even if it's just a fleeting touch. Even if he turns back and strides away after as he usually does. He wonders what he can offer for it because his pain isn't enough. He knows that now. His pain is just a consequence of his betrayal. He can't pay for Findekáno's touch with it. He has to give more, but he has nothing. Nothing but himself. Will Findekáno have him? He has taken a hand, maybe he will take more.

"An ear," he says, starting small because he is a coward and he's still afraid of being maimed, still afraid of pain. "Take it," he says.

Findekáno will have to touch him to take it. Maitimo is a revolting manipulator, but he has known that about himself.

"What?" Findekáno says.

It's not enough. Findekáno isn't a fool. He has already taken a hand, why would he settle on an ear? Maitimo has to haggle.

"Take both of them," he says. Findekáno just stares at him. "An eye?" Maitimo says in a trembling voice. Surely that's better than an ear. Even better than a hand. He can't imagine the pain, but he knows he can bear it.

Findekáno orders the others to leave. He looks disgusted. Why would he even want to touch Maitimo after all that he's done? Maitimo hasn't thought about it. He has thought only of himself and of how much he longs for Findekáno's touch. Selfish and cruel. 

"What are you saying, Russandol?" Findekáno asks.

Maitimo shudders hearing the name. Maybe there is hope? Findekáno is so kind.

"An eye and both ears," he says. "Take them."

"What? Why?" Findekáno says in disbelief.

It's not enough. Maitimo is shaking. What more does he want? It cannot be his wretched, disgusting body. Findekáno can take it anytime he wants anyway. It has always been his. His other hand maybe? Tears burn his eyes. What is he going to do without both his hands? Whatever he is doing now, he tells himself. Lie here and be hurt and long for Findekáno's touch. And have it. Have that relief only at the cost of two ears, an eye and a hand. Fair enough.

"Take my hand too then," he says.

Findekáno's eyes are huge and tearful. Maitimo doesn't understand why.

"Is there a reason you are saying such horrifying things, Russandol?" Findekáno asks, wiping away a tear.

Maitimo's heartbeat is loud enough that he can barely hear Findekáno, but he understands. Findekáno wants to know what Maitimo is bargaining for. He opens his mouth to tell him, to tell him that he wants a touch every time he's being hurt, and if it's too much to ask, every other time, or whenever Findekáno is free. He wants to say it, but he's a weakling and a coward and he says something entirely different.

"You can take what I offered if you tell me when the punishment will end."

He freezes in terror. Stupid. Stupid. Why did he ask that? It's not what he wants. It's the opposite of what he wants. He doesn't want to hear the answer because what if Findekáno says never, what if he says, if he says...

"What punishment?" he says.

Maitimo wants to hit himself. Valar, why is he so stupid? He doesn't deserve to breathe.

"I am sorry, I should not have called it that," he says, tripping over the words. "I know I deserve it. It's not a punishment, it is justice."

"Russandol," Findekáno says, leaning closer. "No one is punishing you."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. It's not a punishment. I deserve to be hurt, I deserve it."

"No one hurts you," Findekáno says, choking on a sob.

That's just not true. Why is Findekáno mocking him?

"Yes, they do," Maitimo says, then falls silent, shocked by his own folly.

How did the conversation get here? Why is he contradicting Findekáno? He's going to lose his ears, his eye and his hand and get _nothing_ in return.

"Do you mean the healers?" Findekáno asks after a long moment.

What else can Maitimo do except nod?

"They are trying to help you, Russo," Findekáno says. "There is no punishment. They are only trying to heal you."

"It hurts," Maitimo murmurs.

"Oh, Russo, I know, but they aren't trying to hurt you. Your wounds are too many and too terrible, so even the potions they give you cannot take the pain away. I am so sorry, Russo, I know it hurts, I know. It will be over soon. You will get better, I promise."

Findekáno's voice is warm and gentle and so, so kind. Maitimo wants him to never stop talking. And then Findekáno takes his hand, and everything but his touch, even pain, stops existing for a blissful moment.

Tears overwhelm Maitimo and he weeps noisily, unable to stop himself. Findekáno immediately draws his hand back. 

"I'm sorry," he says.

"No!" Maitimo cries, cringing, fearing to be hit for raising his voice, but then doing it again: "No! Please. Please!"

He can't say it, can't say what he wants because what if he does and Findekáno never touches him again because he knows how much Maitimo wants it and Maitimo doesn't deserve to get what he wants.

Findekáno looks at him, at his blotched, wounded, tear-stained face, and miraculously understands. He takes Maitimo's hand between his and brings it to his lips. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers, kissing Maitimo's palm, his fingers, his knuckles. "I should have known. I should have realized. I should have cleared it up before. I won't let anyone hurt you only to cause you pain, Russo. I cut off your hand because there was no other way to free you, not for some kind of payment or revenge. You are safe here, Russo. No one wants to hurt you here. You will heal. You will recover. The pain will be gone. And I will be with you every step of the way. I promise you."

Maitimo cannot say anything because he's a shaking, sobbing mess, because Findekáno is holding his hand so tenderly, because he's so happy that he fears he will die of it. But he hears him and believes him. It would be too cruel of a deception, and if there's something he knows, it's that Findekáno is too kind.


End file.
